The Mirror of the Soul
by majorbee
Summary: While hunting killer dragons, Hercules and Iolaus meet a man who has his own quest - to remove the curse from his lady love, turned into a dragon.
1. Chapter 1

Iolaus propped his bow on his shoulder, squinting up at the brilliant blue sky. 'I can't believe you've never read Plato.'

Hercules let his breath out in a weary sigh. 'If I promise to read it, will you promise never to tell me the story about the cave again?'

'I just can't believe you call yourself an educated man and you've never- Whoa, there it is.'

Suddenly tensed for action, Hercules too scanned the sky. The dragon they'd been hunting for the last two days had indeed reappeared - he could make out its distinctive purple hide and wings gleaming in the midday sun. At least it didn't seem to have noticed them, yet. It had burned down two local villages before Hercules and Iolaus had been sent for, and much to their chagrin, had managed to burn down one more after they had arrived. Dragons were damn hard to stop when they were on a rampage. Standing close at his shoulder, Iolaus gave a heavy, dispirited sigh, and Hercules mentally braced himself. _Any minute now, I know he's going to say it. Again._

'I don't know how I could have missed.'

Hercules winced. _Here we go again._ 'You didn't miss. It just -'

Iolaus picked up his bow and headed toward the rocky outcrop at the end of the beach. 'You know what I mean - I missed the kill shot. And now the damn thing's even more pissed than it was before. Come on, I'll take the high road, you go low.'

'Fine.'

Hercules refrained from asking why Iolaus wanted to climb the cliff face lining the small cove. No doubt he thought he'd have a better chance of getting a bolt into the creature's eye or throat if he could get closer. Hercules hoped the thing would change its mind and head back out to sea, return to whatever land it called home. He broke into an easy, loping run, making toward the next village in line along the coast. It was about a mile and a half away around the scrub-covered limestone headland, and had been their original objective. Hercules was pretty sure the locals would have heard about the marauding dragon by now, but he and his partner intended to be there to protect them. _And this time we'll get it right. _

As he ran, he glanced to one side and saw his partner was already half way up the cliff face. Hercules squinted against the glare and looked back to where the dragon had been lazily drifting on the hot air currents that swirled up from the cliffs. _Either it's searching for a likely cave to hole up in, or it's planning on finding some more fun and food first._

'Uh-oh.' Hercules stopped, watching until he was sure. 'Damn. There's something else up there.'

He shaded his eyes and tried to make it out. He'd never seen anything like it before. It was much smaller than the dragon, and didn't seem to be flying. Or at least it had no wings. Instead it had a tightly bloated, red and gold striped hide-covered spherical upper body. The largest part of the thing, it seemed to be holding the remaining parts aloft. It did not appear to have limbs, just some smaller rounded section dangling under the sphere.

'What in Hades...' Hercules muttered. He looked up at Iolaus and could tell by his partner's stance that he was just as puzzled. Iolaus waved down at him and headed on up the cliff. _He moves like a mountain goat,_ Hercules grinned as he watched the hunter leap smoothly from rock ledge to boulder, his bow secured on his back.

The newly arrived sky dweller was now much lower in the sky. _I do not believe it! _Hercules' jaw dropped a little in sheer astonishment. _There's someone on that thing! In it, whatever._

There was a woven basket slung by ropes beneath the sphere and a clearly human figure was moving about it, adjusting - some kind of flying controls Hercules supposed. A huge shadow suddenly darkened his view of the contraption.

_Oh, no!_

Sure enough , the dragon too had spotted the thing and was making a cautionary first pass. For the first time in a long while, Hercules felt helpless. There was absolutely nothing he could do to help the person suspended like a packaged meal, defenseless in the open sky. He could only hope Iolaus could get a clear shot. Then the dragon dived toward the sphere, talons extended, fire flickering from its nostrils, ready to attack, to feed. And its trajectory put the sphere and its occupant right in Iolaus' line of fire. The heavier longbow bolts Iolaus had had made especially for dragon hunting could as easily rupture the sphere and send the rider crashing to his death.

The winged reptile swept down on him again, shooting flames, and Jayk ducked down as low as possible inside the flimsy protection afforded by the woven basket. The rush of hot air made the balloon jolt so violently that he was very nearly tossed over the basket's side, safety straps and all. The only weapons he possessed were a light weight short sword and a boot knife. The monster was coming at him again. Under other conditions he may have admired the sheer grace of movement; the male's wing span was awesome and he envied its ease of flight by comparison to the awkward, ponderous balloon. The basket's confinement made a neat package sandwiching him in as lunch for the voracious reptile.

Whoosh! it dove at him, belching gold-red flame that set fire to the balloon. The clawed tip of one wing ripped the fabric for good measure. Its huge shadow blocked the sunlight for a moment, and he felt the jolt as its claws closed briefly around the metal cables holding the basket to the balloon, then let go. The basket lurched and Jayk slammed into the side, getting a disorienting glimpse of the sea crashing against the rocks so far below. He scrabbled desperately for a grip on the wicker. The safety straps bit painfully hard into his shoulders and chest as they caught him. If he fell, he'd deny the monster its lunch. No, the cursed thing would probably snap him up on the wing, like a hawk taking its kill. He struggled to draw and hold his sword amid the unpredictable tossing of his air-ship. He determined to give the thing a wound for its trouble.

The big male banked steeply, purple hide flashing against the clear blue sky. Jayk was relieved to note it was no longer belching fire. But its jaws gaped wide, revealing unbelievably big teeth set to swallow him basket, supplies and all. He could only hope some of that might give the thing indigestion. It closed rapidly upon him, blotting out the sun. At the last moment Jayk lashed out, holding his breath against the sulfuric stench. His eyes closed against the rush of air, the cinders of burning balloon, and the sight of death coming for him.

His sword point sunk home into something surprisingly soft. A terrific shriek followed by a tremendous jolt and the weapon, lodged in the reptile's under-belly, was wrenched from his hand. At full stretch of the safety straps, Jayk was unsurprised when one snapped, leaving two intact. It hardly mattered, the balloon was now blazing in earnest. The basket lost altitude rapidly, and he was crashing, tumbling closer toward a rocky promontory in a heart-searingly beautiful azure ocean .

The dragon screamed again in pain and Jayk squinted up into the bright sky. The reptile seemed smaller now, appeared to be abandoning the attack . He could barely believe one tiny scratch from his sword had driven the thing away. Then, amazed, he caught sight of what could only be a metal-tipped arrow flashing after it, fired from below. Gaping disbelief, he peered down, ignoring the dizzying slow spin of the basket. Yes, there was the figure of a man silhouetted high on the cliff top, bow aimed, one hand moving to notch then fire another arrow.

Jayk tore his gaze from this unexpected aid to follow the flight of the arrow. The dragon, aware of the danger, banked suddenly and the arrow missed, but only narrowly. By the way the monster was now carrying its left wing, at least one arrow had struck home, no doubt the cause of the second cry of pain he'd heard. Given how far off was the target, the huntsman displayed remarkable ability. Jayk's pleasure in that success vanished as his sweeping view of the sky also gave him a lovely view of his now almost thoroughly ruined balloon. .

Dangling from the remnants of burning fabric and buckled cables, the basket drifted sideways as it fell, heading straight toward the jagged cliff-face on which stood the huntsman. Closing ever more rapidly, Jayk could almost see the helpless despair radiating from the man's form.

_You tried,_ Jayk thought gratefully.

Though to no avail - the impact with the rock wall would surely kill him. From his point of view it appeared not so much that he was falling but that sea and rock were coming up to meet him, way too fast. The basket began spinning violently, and he closed his eyes against an upsurge of nausea and terror. Then, suddenly, there was a sharp tearing sound, and the basket jolted to a halt, hanging clear of the rocks. Every bone in Jayk's body screamed protest, and he felt his right collar bone snap with a sickening surge of pain. The safety straps held him but very nearly dislocated both shoulders and brought such agony that consciousness wavered. He fought the pain tenaciously, his head cleared and sight returned.

Abrupt silence, a faint stir of wind, and the roar of waves pounding the shore far below. Ominous tearing and ripping sounds came from above. Jayk turned his head painfully to find the basket wedged against the rocky cliff face. He could hear a man yelling, surprisingly close by, the words harsh with desperation, but unfamiliar, some strange language Jayk didn't recognize. Bleary eyed he followed the sound of the voice, his eyebrows climbing as he located the archer. The man was racing urgently closer, dislodging a rain of small stones and climbing up the bare cliff as nimbly as a mountain goat, his bow bouncing at his back. Surely he could not reach the basket before the last strand of balloon-sail let go its precarious hold?

Hoping against hope, Jayk squinted upward, saw the fire had been largely smothered by the rapid passage of air as the balloon fell. Still, only a narrow, blackened and weakened piece of old sail canvas was all that was keeping him from certain death.

He swallowed hard and bent his head, looking down at the jumble of roped supplies piled waist-high about him. A wicker work and wood-inlaid chest and anchor chain assembly was firmly secured against the opposite side of the basket. He fumbled to find the release buckles to the straps, and immediately realized they were hopelessly warped, twisted by the impact. He'd never get them open in time.

_Where's my boot knife, dammit_! Somehow, he must get free of the safety straps and make a jump for the cliff. Jumping would mean he must leave behind the chest and its precious contents. That would near break his heart. But he couldn't complete his quest if he were dead.

His first attempt at reaching for the knife caused another wave of darkness to wash over him as he forgot his broken shoulder. Cursing, he switched to reaching with his left arm instead, pushing at the clutter that buried his lower body. Blood trickled into his eyes and he swore again, realized the snapped safety strap must have cut him. He had no free arm to wipe away the blood. He fumbled for the knife by touch again, couldn't find it, felt tears of frustration filling his eyes along with the blood and blinked all the harder. The basket jolted, fell a few feet, snagged again, tilted harder to the left. His vision cleared in time to give him a terrifying glimpse of the drop and he gulped against a fear-dry throat. The dragon's teeth had been sharp enough, the rocks below looked no less deadly. Above, he heard the fabric tear further, the basket shuddered, held. This was torture. Still, he fought to reach the knife.

Then his heart skipped as someone yelled immediately at his head. He looked up, startled, to meet a pair of keen blue eyes that pinned him with fierce determination. The man repeated the one urgent word and lifted his fist into Jayk's line of sight. A knife!

Instinctively, Jayk reached with his right arm and could only gasp and screw his eyes against the pain. His would-be rescuer muttered what sounded a curse and pushed the knife hilt into Jayk's left hand. Nodding bleary gratitude, Jayk took it and reached up to awkwardly try to cut one strap as his rescuer set about hacking with a sword at the other The straps were made of leather studded with metal and the knife blade struggled to find its way between them.

Desperately, Jayk spared a glance for the other man who was now leaning dangerously out from the cliff, his upper body stretched over the basket's woven rim. Fair hair was plastered to a sweat-streaked brow, jaw set in iron resolve, shoulder and arm muscles bunched with strain. Somehow his left hand maintained a desperate grip on something - a tree root - protruding from beneath a boulder on the cliff face. The right arm, its wrist encircled by a leather guard, gripped the sword hilt, but could not get enough of an arc to land a cutting blow. Instead he could only saw away, cursing as the strap, which was no longer taut, pushed away from his efforts at severing it. The man let go his safety hold on the tree root to bring his left hand forward to hold the strap.

The torn balloon abruptly lurched free and the basket fell. Overbalanced, the archer toppled head first into the basket. Jayk closed his eyes in despair - he would be the cause of the valiant hunter's death.

'Iolaus! No!'

Hercules' shout was no more than a hoarse whisper, his throat closed with cold dread. Rigid with shock, he could only stand, staring upward in horror, watching helplessly as his friend was snared by the flying contraption now plummeting toward the rock platform far below. A sudden breath of air pushed at the remnants of sail cloth and miraculously, rather than smashing to pieces against jagged stone, the basket hit the sea, sending up a mighty spray of foam flecked blue. Almost immediately, the thing overturned and sank. Hercules could not see either man, which meant they were still trapped inside. The ferocious impact would, at the least, have knocked them unconscious.

Hercules blinked as he found himself in thigh deep cold water - he hadn't realized he'd begun running. Fixing his gaze again on the spot where the basket had gone under, he took a flying leap into the water and began swimming toward it. The outgoing tide was already dragging at him, and no doubt the basket and its drowning occupants too. He must reach Iolaus before it was too late.


	2. Chapter 2

Mirror of the Soul, chapter two, Carolyn golledge

Iolaus lurched to his knees inside the violently pitching basket in time to see that they were falling clear of the rocks and about to meet the sea instead. He took time to glance at the young pilot's face and could see he looked just as terrified. He braced himself as best he could, then came a horrific impact.

Stunned, he woke moments later to inhale a mouthful of saltwater. Groggy, disoriented, he coughed, began to struggle, only to feel something grab at his hair and pull his face up out of the water. Gasping and blinking away the stinging water, his eyes made contact with another's face. A young, terrified, bleeding and pale face with wide staring green-brown eyes.

_Oh yeah, him._ It all came back in a flash, and he realized the youngster, though obviously in pain, was holding him clear of the water. That reminded Iolaus of the painful grip on his hair.

'Ow,' he muttered, and shook his head to free himself, then gave the man a grateful nod. It was only then he understood what it was that puzzled him about the scene.

They were in the water, breathing, but no sky showed above. It was dim and shadowy, weird beams of light lancing down through what looked like wickerwork above and behind the youngster.

_The flying-basket thing, we're trapped under it, _he realized with a shock. There was a small pocket of air trapped with them, but it was rapidly leaking out through what must be the bottom of the overturned torn and battered basket. The water level was rising about them. The youngster was still caught by the tangled straps digging painfully deep into his shoulders.

Iolaus' fist closed, expecting to feel the sword hilt in his grip, and he was dismayed when it was no longer there. He ducked his head underwater, gave a quick look about for it in the mass of tangled debris that was still attached to various ropes dangling from the basket. Nothing. He drew his last boot knife instead and surfaced to take hold of one of the trapped man's straps and start up where he'd left off before they fell. The man had lost the other knife Iolaus had shoved into his hand - lucky thing Iolaus carried one in each boot.

Involved in his task, Iolaus didn't notice how near was death until the water washed and slapped about his mouth. And the cursed strap was still resisting his blade. He spared a glance for the youngster, saw he had his good hand closed about the other strap and was using it as leverage to keep his head marginally clear of the water. Less than a handspan of air remained above their heads, and the basket began to tear faster under the strain, the air leaving it in ever growing streams of bubbles.

The youngster's eyes grew dark and wide, terror laden with sadness. He said something hoarsely, and nodded his chin sharply upward. _He's telling me to get the Hades out of here,_ Iolaus realized in surprise. _Brave kid._

_No!_ Iolaus shook his head vehemently and hacked all the harder, searching for a way through the cursed metal studs in the tangled leather. Saltwater closed over his mouth and he took a quick, sharp breath through his nose before the water went up over his eyes. At his side the frightened youngster's face screwed up in pain as he hauled himself up one last desperate notch, then pressed his face hard upward against the wickerwork and its remaining tiny air pocket. It would be enough for moments only.

Silently, Iolaus cursed the gods. He would not let this kid die, damn it! Abstractedly, he wondered why the basket was slowly sinking rather than rising, as he'd hoped it would with air trapped inside. Something heavy must have fallen on it from above. There was a sudden jolt on the basket wall then he felt a hard fist tighten urgently about his booted ankle and pull him down. He slipped and lost sight of the notch he'd finally managed to cut into the metal-coated leather. Annoyed, he kicked out and looked down at the same time. Sure enough, Hercules had arrived to pull him free.

Noting Iolaus' conscious resistance, Hercules let go and came up to meet him face to face. 'Iolaus!' he gasped out, finding the air pocket. His hazel eyes narrowed keenly as he examined his friend for injury. 'Are you -?'

'I'm fine. He's not,' Iolaus said concisely and Hercules' head turned to regard the other man. What had begun as a delighted smile to find Iolaus unharmed, quickly faded into a grim frown as he noted what his partner was attempting to do.

He met Iolaus' eyes again, gave a curt, determined nod, and disappeared down and out of the basket. Almost immediately the wickerwork jolted ferociously and began to rise rapidly - Hercules had freed whatever had been holding it down, and/or was hauling the basket, load and all to the surface.

_Way to go, Herc! _Iolaus cheered pinioning shoulder strap pulled suddenly taut and Iolaus' knife finally severed the last thread. _Only one to go._

Turning to give the youngster a victory grin_, _Iolaus saw instead a flashing agony contort the stranger's face, his mouth strained wide in a silent scream, then snapped shut as he tried to avoid swallowing water. The remaining shoulder strap was cutting into his broken shoulder and pulling him cruelly up while his lower body was pulled taut and down by - what? Under tremendous strain, the last safety strap suddenly tore free of the sodden wickerwork. And as quickly as that, the man was gone, plummeting downward. _Now what!?_

Iolaus took one last gulp of air, duck-dived, and pushed down and after the sinking man. He was dismayed to find his own limbs were tiring, his strength fading, he'd been shaken badly by the crashing impact with the sea. Peering through the silt that swirled upward about the falling debris, Iolaus was just able to make out something wrapped about the drowning man's legs. It looked like rope, and as he drew nearer he understood - the flying contraption had some kind of anchor, like a ship, and it was this, attached to the rope, that was pulling the man downward.

_This guy has gotta be cursed!_ Iolaus thought, and was all the more determined the gods would not claim him.

The anchor hit a sandy bottom and the youngster thrashed and kicked trying to free himself, but only managed to tangle himself up worse. Such struggles would also quickly use up the last of the air held in his lungs. Reaching him, Iolaus gave his arm a quick, reassuring squeeze. The youngster's eyes widened in surprise over his fear. Iolaus was already looking at the rope, hunting for the best place to begin cutting. He could feel the beginning strain in his lungs and had difficulty getting a grip on the rope that moved away from his blade. He wanted to howl curses at whatever cruel god was responsible, but kept his lips firmly shut, and tried to hold the rope steady with one hand and cut with the other.

A sudden flurry of bubbles and movement, a dark shadow swooping down from above, announced the return of his partner. Iolaus flicked a glance upward and saw Hercules diving toward them, slowed by something he was hauling in both hands.

Iolaus frowned - _a cooking pot?_ Then, as Hercules reached the young man, Iolaus realized, _He's brought some air with him! Yes!_

Hercules pulled the pot over the man's head and Iolaus saw the youngster's legs ease up struggling. Hercules guided the boy's hand to grasp the pot which would be difficult to hold down against its buoyancy. He grabbed for the man's other arm, wanting him to hold tight with both hands. Iolaus reached urgently to knock Hercules' hand away, stopping him from moving the boy's broken limb - he'd let go for sure with the pain of it.

Hercules frowned but didn't argue, taking in Iolaus' hurried miming of injury. Instead the big man took Iolaus' arm in an unshakable grip, and fiercely pointed his own free hand skyward. Iolaus shook his head, his vision dimming. He'd have to leave, he had no choice. He tried to shove the hilt of his boot knife into his partner's fist, but Hercules indicated he intended hauling upward on the anchor rope instead. The weight would be impossible for anyone else, and even for Hercules it would be a struggle, but it had a better chance of quick success than trying to cut through the wet, tangled rope.

Feeling a little better about abandoning the scene, Iolaus kicked hard into the sandy sea-floor, giving himself as much propulsion upward as he could muster. His lungs burned terribly and he fought the urge to expel the air pushing against his lips. The glorious beams of light, the pooled sheen of the open sky racing to meet him, was possibly the best thing he'd ever seen in his life. But it was farther off than it seemed and darkness blotted out the stirring sight before he could reach it, his lungs releasing against the strain and air leaking out between his parted lips. Just as his failing consciousness was all but overcome, his head came clear of the surface. He gasped explosively and gulped fresh air. Nothing could be as sweet as that cold air flooding in, filling his aching lungs, sating the pain, and renewing the strength in his blood.

Still gasping and spluttering, he turned his head up to drink in the sight of the sun and the sky. He turned back, intending to dive under to help complete the rescue. Movement caught his eye, and he blinked dazedly, trying to make out what it was that had suddenly bobbed up at his side. The cooking pot!

Heart thudding with renewed alarm, Iolaus dived back underwater. Hercules was steadily gaining the surface with his trailing burden, but his face was drawn in despair, watching the young man floating unconscious slightly above him, his legs still caught in the rope. Iolaus pushed down, grabbed hard at the line and heaved upward with all his remaining strength. Between the two of them, they climbed much more quickly against the dragging, deadly weight. As soon as the youngster's head broke through the surface Iolaus released the rope to hold his motionless face clear of the water.

Coughing and spluttering, Hercules emerged to gulp a breath and turn to him, eyes asking the question.

'No,' Iolaus said, panting for air himself. 'He's not…. Breathing.'

Hercules' chin jerked sharply up and he half turned in the water to peer more closely at the still pale face, an anxious frown pulling at his brows. He took hold of the man under the arms, somehow heaved him upright in the water, and took him in a bear hug and squeezed hard enough to make Iolaus wince. A jet of sea water came flying from the man's mouth and nose and he drew what could have been a ragged breath. It was hard to tell whether he was actually breathing for himself properly again, or it was simply the action of the muscles of the chest settling back in reflex.

'Hold him,' Hercules said. 'I'll cut him free.'

Fighting the small waves slapping about them, and the tide dragging against his weary limbs, Iolaus did what he could. There were bits and pieces of light-weight debris floating about them, and he soon spotted his bow, glad to be able to secure it again as the tide carried it close. The heavier quiver and arrows had somehow stayed safe at his back, the shoulder strap holding it tightly.

After what seemed an eternity but could have been mere moments, he felt the dragging weight at last ease from the man's body as Hercules succeeded in cutting him free. He surfaced to blink water from his eyes and give Iolaus a desperately hopeful glance. 'Well?' he gasped.

'I'm not sure,' Iolaus said heavily. 'If he is breathing it's not much.'

Hercules dragged the unconscious man's upper body onto his chest and struck out, swimming on his back. 'If you get tired, grab my belt.'

Iolaus nodded thanks, and began swimming, but soon realized he was too badly shaken, and the current too strong. It dragged him continually back, sapping his strength and he knew that soon he would be too tired to fight it at all. He swam closer and wrapped his fingers about Hercules' belt. His partner half turned and gave him a concerned glance, but neither of them had breath for words. Iolaus could feel his own body being towed through the water along with the limp stranger, his partner's tremendous strength easily able to carry the load even against the outgoing tide.

They had neared the shore where the ocean rolled in a never-ending series of long breakers to crash into the sandy beach with its bordering rock platform. Only now did Iolaus fully realize just how far out the tide had carried them. Hercules' powerfully stroking arms guided them smoothly clear of the rocks and at last, they were in shallow water, their feet touching bottom. Waves surged about them, upsetting their balance, and they struggled awkwardly with the injured man.

Finally, Hercules heaved him bodily up into his arms and ran, splashing through the surf with him to the shore. Iolaus staggered up beside him and watched as Hercules lay the man face down in the sand. He drew the arms back sharply - making Iolaus wince as he remembered the injury - then dropped them and pressed down hard on the man's back. More sea water gushed from the man's mouth and nose and Hercules rolled him over, bent to try breathing into him.

Suddenly the stranger coughed, vomited up more water and began breathing raggedly. Hercules took time out to give his partner a victory grin. Iolaus smiled back, then felt his legs go out from under him, crushing weariness and shock catching up with him full force.

'Iolaus?' Hercules frowned concern and made to move toward him. But Iolaus, sitting back on his heels in the wonderfully dry sand and fresh air, waved him off. He nodded at the other man who was groaning and trying to sit up, spewing up more water amid choking coughs that raked his slim frame.

SCENE BREAK

They safely delivered the unconscious, injured man to the local village healer, then completed a long talk with the men about how best to defend their homes and people should the dragon return. The locals were greatly relieved to hear that Iolaus had managed to get an arrow into the thing, and thus were hopeful it might hole up for a while to lick its wounds. It had as yet left their village unharmed - though probably only because of the distraction of the strange flying craft - and the people had been badly panicked by the dragon's sudden appearance. No word had reached them of its attacks on the settlements to the north.

Now, that business complete, the two friends walked wearily away from the gathering about the central square with its shady fountain and trees. From there, they turned and hiked on up-slope along a central avenue between a line of stone, wood, and thatch houses. At the top of the hill stood the larger home in which lived those skilled in healing. An extra room or two had been added for caring for the sick, or for the fishermen who returned injured from the sea that was their major source of sustenance and commerce.

Twilight was beginning to cloak the street, casting long purple shadows from the limestone cliffs behind the houses, while here and there, the last golden shafts of the setting sun gilded a tree or wall. The sea breeze stirred, promising a cold night, and bringing the fragrance of salt and fish. As they climbed the few stone steps and pushed through the entry into the house of healing, their eyes adjusted to the brighter light. A middle-aged woman was moving quietly about, finishing lighting the oil lamps.

She nodded a quiet greeting, said, 'I'm Genarra, the Healer. The man you carried here is still unconscious. You can wait in here.' She indicated they should go on into the common room and sit down on one of the benches at the large wooden table by the hearth, there to await the healer's finishing of her work.

'How many people are they tending in there, anyway?' Iolaus said somewhat irritably, nodding to the back room where they'd left the injured man. 'I didn't see anyone else when we arrived. Genarra can't be so busy that she hasn't a moment to spare us a few words.' He yawned and blinked at the firelight from the hearth. 'I was hoping we could just go on in and see him. Well, if we have to wait, I might as well get this dry.'

He shrugged out of his still damp vest, and slung it over a chair by the hearth. He sat down again, stared unseeing at the fire a moment, then propped his head on his chin and closed his eyes. He felt a soft, warm blanket settling about his bare shoulders and looked up to meet Hercules' concerned eyes.

'You don't need to stay. You should go find a bed and get some sleep,' he advised.

'Maybe - if she's going to take all night in there,' Iolaus said, aware of the rasp of weariness in his voice. 'But first I want to make sure...' He yawned hugely and scrubbed his face with both hands, at the same time nodding again to the room where the healer was working on the still unconscious man.

'That he's not going to die on you after all your troubles,' Hercules finished.

'Yeah, that.'

Hercules snorted. 'I don't think he's the ungrateful kind.'

'Me either.' He yawned again. 'But no sleep for a while. I've worked up quite an appetite.'

Hercules cocked an eyebrow at him and smiled. He'd already watched his partner devour an entire dish of olives as they'd talked to the village leaders mid-afternoon.

'Is there any food in this place? Or don't they feed the sick?' Iolaus said somewhat plaintively.

He rubbed at his rumbling stomach and looked hopefully toward a screened off doorway at the right hand corner of the common room which must lead to a kitchen behind the hearth.

One of the younger womenfolk appeared immediately. Hercules had noted with wry amusement that she had been watching them shyly from behind the curtain. He would swear he'd heard her gasp appreciation as Iolaus removed his wet vest. and the firelight played over the bronzed flesh of his bare chest and shoulders. She hurried across the room and meekly gave over a bowl of steaming stew and a wineskin. There were already several cups on the table. Iolaus rewarded her with one of his more charming smiles and she blushed furiously and looked down at her hands, giggling a little.

Genarra poked her head out of the rear room where they'd left the injured man. She cleared her throat and said warningly, 'Kirsta, your manners are lacking. We have more than one guest this night.' She turned back to her work before either of the waiting men could ply her with questions .

The girl's pretty blush became a scarlet stain of mortification. She turned to Hercules, 'There is more in the kitchen,' she said.

'Thank you. I'm not hungry,' Hercules said kindly, and she hurried off, daring to give Iolaus one swift glance before disappearing into the kitchen. Hercules shook his head and sat down next to his partner who was already wolfing down a large portion of his meal.

Iolaus took time out between mouthfuls to eye Hercules curiously and say, 'I can't believe you're not hungry after all you did today.'

'I ate earlier, at the meeting.' Hercules leaned closer to examine the mish mash of greasy looking meat and over-boiled vegetables. 'What is that stuff anyway?'

Iolaus shrugged. 'Dunno. But it tastes better than it looks.'

Hercules shook his head and reached for a hunk of the bread in the middle of the table. He took a bite and got the expected 'I told you so,' from Iolaus who was now trying the wine.

'Kirsta! Bring some water and a cup!' Genarra called urgently from the bedroom. 'The wounded one wakes.'

Hercules got to his feet, and his partner, shrugging off the blanket, followed. 'About time,' Iolaus said. 'This stuff will help him better than water.' He picked up the wineskin and slung it over one bare shoulder.

Hercules wasn't so sure, but said nothing, busy watching the man propped up by cushions against the bedboard in the corner of the small open rear room.

To say the fellow looked dazed and confused was an understatement. The woman healer had done good work strapping his broken shoulder, the right arm was now secured firmly against his ribs in a support bandage. There was a smaller bandage about the gash in his brow. He took a sip of the water the old woman held to his lips, then catching movement at the entry way, looked up at Hercules and Iolaus. He frowned for a moment, then his eyes lit in recognition. He had come round for a short while on the beach, but had been in too much pain, and was too badly dazed for there to be any useful introductions made.

Hercules stepped forward to remedy that. 'It's good to see you looking some stronger,' he said. 'I'm Hercules. This is Iolaus.'

Iolaus nodded and smiled at the man and continued chewing on a hunk of stew. He swallowed, and moved closer to offer the wineskin. He sloshed some into the man's cup, earning a frown from the healer and a smile from the wounded man who reached awkwardly for the cup with his left hand and took a long swallow.

Hercules could tell by his expression that he was less than impressed by the vintage, but both too polite, and too desperate to ease what must be considerable pain, to do anything other than nod thanks. He said something that Hercules couldn't make out.

'Pardon?' Hercules said, taking another step closer to the bed. 'I didn't catch that.'

The man frowned up at him, looking totally at a loss and for a worrying moment Hercules wondered if there was more injury than they realized. He'd seen other people left unbreathing too long who woke physically sound , but never with the same clarity of mind. 'I'm Hercules,' he repeated, giving the man time to collect his senses - hopefully. 'This is Iolaus.'

At his side, his partner gave a grunt of impatience and dug an elbow in Hercules' ribs as if to say, 'He's not stupid. Stop repeating yourself.'

And, indeed, there was much intelligence in the dark green eyes watching them intently. The man was not as young as he had looked while drenched and terrified. He had an air about him of, well, of someone like Jason, Hercules realized with a start. Someone used to maintaining dignity in awkward situations.

The stranger handed the wine cup to the old woman, who was ready to snatch it from him in any case, smiled again, a little stiffly this time, and said something that sounded like it included his name. That was repeated with a finger jabbing at his chest for emphasis. 'Jayk.' Now it was the newcomer who was eyeing his companions as if it was their brains that might be addled. He asked a question, waving a hand at the room, but seeming to indicate a wider query.

Iolaus answered cheerfully, no doubt empathizing with his own numerous waking in similar situations. 'You're in the healer's house, in a little fishing village on the coast of Messenia. About two days walk from Pylos.'

That name registered. 'Pylos?' the man repeated in surprise, eyes widening. He said something more quietly, as if to himself, sounding a little concerned.

Hercules decided it was time to try a language other than Greek. Now that the man's hair had dried, he could see it was an unusual reddish-gold brown, and his eyes were an even more unusual shade of green-grey, deep set beneath straight brows and a wide, high forehead. The cheekbones were high and well defined and the jaw sharply chiseled. The few lines about his face indicated a man who - despite his odd mode of travel - had not spent years in the hot sun and winds of this part of the world. His face was tanned but his shoulders and bare chest were pale. Hercules searched for clues as to land of origin as he tried one language after another without success. The man too tried what must have been a variation of his native tongue, and at Hercules' blank look, sighed in frustration.

'We're getting nowhere fast,' Hercules told his partner as Iolaus returned, munching on the stew he'd gone back to the table to collect. He sighed, and said, 'I'll try Latin.'

'He doesn't look Roman.'

'Sometimes you can't tell by looks.' Hercules turned back to the frowning man and said in fluent Latin, 'Do you speak Latin?'

'Thank the gods!' Jayk interrupted in Latin, a grin lighting his bruised face. 'I thought we might need to try, umm... you know - ' He frowned, didn't seem to know the Latin word for it, and indicated sign language.

Iolaus chuckled. 'Oh, sign language,' he said in Latin. 'Yeah, that could have been awkward. So, Latin is not your native tongue, either?'

'No,' Jayk said. 'I am Gallaecian'

Iolaus frowned, and repeated, 'Gallaecian?'

'From the mountain lands south of Gaul.'

Hercules finally managed to get in a word. 'You have traveled far!'

Jayk smiled wryly, 'That is truth.' A sudden sadness filled his eyes, 'And yet my -' Again, he tried to find the right word, gave up and settled for, 'task - in coming so far - I have not yet finished.' He corrected himself. '_Can_ not yet finish, but I try, long time.'

'Well,' Hercules said, letting out a sigh, and trying a reassuring smile, 'We can give what help we may. But for tonight maybe you should rest. More talk can wait.'

Jayk nodded weary agreement, and fell back against the pillows, wincing a little over the pain of his shoulder. Then, suddenly, he muttered what could only be a curse, and shook his head. He eyed his companions with apology in every line of his face.

'I forget. I am shamed. I forget to thank you. You save me from death. And I think not to thank you.'

Moved by the genuine chagrin in the words, Hercules held the man's eyes and opened his mouth to reassure him that no offence had been taken. But Iolaus, in typically more relaxed manner, went to the bedside, and clasped the man's good arm.

'It's what we do - ' Iolaus said wryly. 'Keeps us from getting bored. Don't worry about it. You hungry?'

Hercules was sure Jayk could not have understood most of what had been said, especially as Iolaus was speaking not-so-great Latin with his mouth full, but the intent and the warmth of the welcome was obvious. Jayk looked a little overcome, his eyes misted, and he looked away from their gazes to hide his emotion. 'If saving life is what you do, I am fortunate to find you,' he said huskily. 'I thank you.'

Iolaus gave the arm another squeeze. 'Forget it. Glad to help. Now, are you hungry?'

Jayk looked back, his eyes lit with faint amusement, as if, Hercules decided dryly, he had quickly deduced that food was an important item on his new friend's list of priorities. 'A little,' he said.

Iolaus translated this request to the old woman who had been standing watching them all the more testily as the conversation changed to words she could not follow. She put her hands to her hips and gave Iolaus a stern stare to let him know she wasn't about to be dismissed as a scullery maid.

'Oh, umm,' Iolaus corrected himself. He waved a hand from her to the injured man, met Jayk's eyes, and introduced in Latin, 'This is Genarra. She fixed your shoulder.' To be sure Jayk followed the words, he added, 'She's a good healer.'

Jayk gave his sincere thanks. Iolaus translated back his own explanation and the thanks for Genarra, whose expression softened at the given compliment, and was further won over by Iolaus' patented Can-you-forgive-me please? expression.

Iolaus had honed that look from the cradle. Hercules had seen it work many times, even on Alceme who had expected it. Genarra didn't stand a chance. Hercules could only roll his eyes and look up at the thatched ceiling as Iolaus scored another direct hit - the old woman melted completely, and like so many of her kind, could not resist ruffling Iolaus' hair before turning to go to the kitchen.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

As he ate the simple meal provided for him, Jayk studied his rescuers and tried to overcome his weariness enough to get a fuller picture of his current situation. Just how much should he tell them? They had saved his life - at great risk to their own lives - surely they had earned his trust? And yet - the attack by the male dragon had left him badly shaken in more than the physical sense. If the creature had been marauding up and down this coast for some time, how many had it killed, and how many villages had been destroyed? Or had it not yet done any real harm? Jayk could not see that there were any other wounded or burned people in need of the healer's attention, so it seemed no one here at least had as yet come under attack. It was apparently part of his rescuers' job to stop the thing, and Iolaus had already wounded it.

Jayk closed his eyes over the image of such an arrow striking the one he loved, causing her to crash to her death. He could not bear it! How could he possibly expect them to heed his pleas not to harm her? He could only hope she was no longer in this area. Another awful thought came to him - the one who had cast this spell upon his love, had taken pleasure in telling them both that as time went by, she would become less and less human. The animal mind would become more dominant. If she were hungry she might attack a human. And if other urges were to take control might she not be attracted by the male dragon - the first Jayk had encountered on his travels?

Jayk's stomach rolled, and he fought to keep down his food. He had been hungry - but not now. He pushed aside his plate, the meal barely touched. The healer, Genarra, immediately frowned and moved forward, as if to urge him to finish eating. Then her eyes met his, and her expression abruptly softened.

Understanding filled her eyes and she bent to take the plate. She held his gaze for a long moment, and he felt her hand softly squeeze his arm in a gesture of heart-rending sympathy. Her touch and her look were so deeply maternal, caring. He had been away from home so long, alone so long. Sudden tears stung Jayk's eyes, and he hurriedly turned his head, fighting for control and not wanting the men to see him on the point of weeping.

Genarra gathered the plates and straightened up. She said something which Iolaus translated as 'She says not to worry, you'll feel better after you've had some sleep.' The woman added something, 'And she's going to make some special tea for you that will help.'

Jayk nodded thanks to Iolaus, then dared to meet the old woman's eyes as she hesitated, waiting for his reaction. Her keen blue eyes showed genuine caring, compassion, intelligence. He smiled and said, 'Thank you,' which needed no translation. Smiling in return, she nodded and left the room. How could he deny giving these people the truth when they had done so much to aid him? Yet - what of Estelle? He owed her his protection, had given her his pledge of love.

Leaning back against the cool plaster wall, Hercules stood assessing the wounded man as closely as good manners would allow. He could see Jayk was doing a lot of thinking, his expression intense, his brows shifting as he sorted memories. Suddenly, the man paled, turned a little green and looked as though he wanted to be sick. Yet Hercules was pretty sure it wasn't the food that had so upset him. He watched as Jayk put down the spoon and pushed aside the plate. Genarra looked all set to scold him, and urge him to eat up, but she too had seen the intensity of anguish that had suddenly darkened the man's green eyes. Hercules swapped a quick look with Iolaus and saw that his partner was just as puzzled. Obviously, Jayk had remembered something important, or some ugly possibility had come to him. What exactly had he lost in the crash? They both looked back to the bed in time to see Genarra's gesture of sympathy further affect the young man.

'He suffers wounds I cannot heal,' Genarra said softly, looking to Iolaus and Hercules. She gave a heavy sigh. 'He grieves for something, or someone. Tell him not to worry about the food. He may feel more like eating after he's rested.' She turned to go, then added, 'I'll brew some of my special tea for him. That will help him sleep.'

Iolaus translated, and Hercules took the chance to ask the old woman quietly, 'Do you think he's ready to talk about it? Or should we leave him be.'

Genarra eyed him wearily, then shrugged and said, 'Talking usually helps. But not too long. He needs rest.'

Hercules nodded and turned back into the room. He knew there were questions that if left unanswered would mean he'd get no sleep tonight, either. He well knew Iolaus' curiosity was insatiable. He'd spent many a restless night listening to his partner's endless theorizing on various adventures, and knew Iolaus took delight in waiting until he was almost asleep to hit him with another turn of possibility. Without immediate answers from Jayk, Iolaus would come up with at least a hundred variations on why the man was here, what was his mysterious quest, and what exactly was the idea behind traveling in such an outrageous and dangerous contraption. There'd be no end to it. On their walk here from the beach, he had already half-convinced Hercules that the leather and metal straps about Jayk's chest was evidence he had been imprisoned in the flying thing by some crazed god or sorcerer, and sent to his doom for reasons as yet unspecified.

At Hercules' side, Iolaus had reacted to Genarra's collecting of the plates and departure from the room with the air of someone who had waited days rather than moments for the answer to some urgent mystery. Hercules threw him a look which Iolaus correctly interpreted as 'Not too long. Unless you want to see him pass out again.'

'I know, I know,' Iolaus said. 'I just want to find out about the flying thing, that's all.'

Jayk looked up at them curiously, his expression showing keen assessment of the friendship, and perhaps even faint amusement, as if he had been well able to feel Iolaus' impatient wait for answers. 'I thank you for the food,' he said politely. 'Your hospitality far exceeds anything I could have hoped earlier today.'

That more complicated phrase, in a language with which Jayk was not so fluent, had to have been well practiced. Hercules had to admit that it wasn't just Iolaus whose curiosity was climbing rapidly. Hercules was ready to bet that Jayk had had at least some diplomatic training, possibly as the son of some nobleman or local lord. There were few in the barbarian lands who would be schooled in Latin. However poorly. And that too could be more the fault of the student than the teacher - Jayk struck him as the type who wouldn't sit still for long. He smiled fondly, deciding the man might have that in common with the Iolaus of Academy days.

'Umm,' Iolaus began, moving closer to the bed. 'How are you feeling now? If you're not too tired, I'd like to hear more about, you know, that flying thing we freed you from ' Iolaus lifted his hands to make a vague outline of the balloon with its dangling basket. 'And why you were a prisoner in it.' He moved his hands down from his own shoulders to indicate where the straps had held the man.

Watching Jayk's bruised face intently, Hercules caught the brief flash of tearing sorrow at the mention of flying. The man schooled his features to conceal it immediately, whether out of trying to appear stoic, or because he had something to hide, Hercules was unsure. The word 'prisoner' hit home to erase the disciplined neutral expression, with genuine surprise.

'Prisoner?' he repeated. 'I am no prisoner. I fly in the _balloon_,' he winced as he tried to imitate Iolaus' gesture, then paused to make sure he was understood.

Iolaus nodded. 'Balloon. Got it.'

'I fly in the balloon because I want to. And because it is the fastest way to journey so far.'

'You came all the way from Gallaecia in that - that - balloon basket?'

'Not all. Most,' Jayk said with a smile for Iolaus' amazement. 'I met a man in Gaul. A learned man. You might say, wizard. He had... made... this balloon vessel, but was now too old to fly it. None other of his people would try it. When he learned of my - quest - he became my friend. He wanted to help me.' Jayk's expression fell into pure misery, and he looked down at his bandaged arm. 'And now I have ...' He hunted for the right word, gave up, and imitated the splashing impact into the water by balling his fist and dropping it into his lap. 'There is nothing left to return to him of his balloon.'

Hercules stepped away from the wall, to say softly, 'The ruin of the - balloon - was not your doing. Surely your friend will be glad to have you return alive.'

Jayk nodded sorrowful agreement. 'Yet, it was his life work.' He lifted weary eyes to hold Hercules' gaze and said, 'And now I have no means of finding that which I seek.'

'There are other ways to travel,' Iolaus put in. 'Not so fast maybe, but a lot safer!'

Hercules frowned, the words suddenly bringing to mind the death of Daedalus' son, Icarus, who had been trying out one of his father's flying inventions.

Jayk snorted agreement. 'True spoken. But that which I seek lives in the air. I track her best from the air.'

'Her?' Iolaus said, and Hercules knew he was wondering if it had been simply a grammatical error.

'Yes. Her. She is very dear to me.' Suddenly looking nervous, he turned away and eased back into the pillows, and made a show of wincing over the pain of his shoulder. Almost as if trying to indicate he didn't want to say much more on the subject. Then, he muttered something in his native language, and at Iolaus' 'huh?' said heavily, 'How will I follow her now? ' Again his expression opened for a moment to reveal his heart, and Hercules saw deep grief and anguish. 'I know not.'

'Save her - who?' Iolaus asked. 'From what?'

'Iolaus,' Hercules said warningly. 'Maybe this can wait.'

Jayk looked at them both, reading first Iolaus' impatient curiosity, then Hercules more wary interest. He said something again in his native tongue, as if offering himself advice. He nodded sharply, having reached a decision, and said firmly, 'I would not live if not for you,' he said softly. 'A man can have no greater debt. Ask what you will.'

Iolaus looked up at Hercules who nodded, and then he said carefully, 'You're following someone you care for. Maybe we can help you find her.'

'It is difficult to explain,' Jayk said, his voice husky with exhaustion. 'She was - I know not the word... changed ... by an evil man.'

'Changed?' Hercules said. 'You mean, like a spell?' The word didn't register, and he tried again, 'A charm?' He shook his head, that wasn't the word either. 'The means used by a god, or sorcerer, to alter the human form?'

'Yes,' Jayk nodded sadly. 'My love was so changed by a man who wanted to harm me. I am the first born son of the ruler of my land, king Farsain. The evil was done to keep me from... my rightful heritage. At my age, it is the custom to take over my father's work. But first I must marry. I would marry the one I love. But the evil man, Pharad, would have me marry his daughter instead.'

Listening to this stilted explanation, Iolaus turned and gave his partner the benefit of both an appalled and an intrigued expression. He looked back to Jayk and said, 'We will help in whatever way we can.'

Again the young man's eyes shone with tears of gratitude. Hercules wondered just how long and lonely a quest he had already endured.

'So,' Iolaus continued, 'what are we looking for here exactly? I mean, what was she changed into?'

Jayk flinched, the blood drained from his face, and again he looked away from them. 'I am not sure I have the courage to tell you.'

'You lack rest, not courage,' Hercules said, 'This can wait until tomorrow.'

Iolaus turned sharply, about to give him an 'You can't be serious! We can't stop now!' look. Jayk caught that glance and despite what was obvious distress, a smile touched his eyes.

'I think we can guess,' Hercules said, 'And I understand how hard it would be for you to tell us.'

'The dragon which attacked me, has it harmed many people here?'

'No,' Hercules said, 'It raided some villages north of here and stole livestock. It hasn't killed anyone, though it came close when it burned down several homes.'

'And you are here to stop it attacking again? You plan to kill it?'

'Yes.' Iolaus said, and cast a glance at Hercules that said plainly he was relieved the thing was male. They both knew well there was only one reason Jayk would be so reluctant to reveal the details. Iolaus looked back to Jayk and added, 'The male is the only dragon we've seen around here. '

'Good,' Jayk breathed relief.

'Is there some way of reversing this magic that has changed your lady friend?' Hercules asked.

'Yes,' Jayk seemed to brighten at the thought, but sighed and the hope left him as rapidly. 'But it lies now at the bottom of the sea.'

'It was in the balloon basket?'

'Yes. A mirror. If my love can be made to see herself she will change. Or so the oracle told me when she revealed where I may find the mirror.'

'The oracle, as in Delphi?'

Jayk nodded. 'I had heard of her wisdom, and sought her out when my quest began to seem impossible.'

'How long have you been tracking your lady?' Iolaus asked sympathetically.

'Since the days of summer.'

'And she's remained in the same form all this time?'

Jayk said heavily, 'Yes. I have reached her more than once, but she did not seem to know me.'

'That would be hard,' Iolaus said, sounding pained at the thought. 'Very hard.'

'You got close to her even though -' Hercules said. 'She could have hurt you?'

'Yes, but I don't think... I don't think she has forgotten me so much that she would hurt me, or indeed any other human.' He must have read it in Hercules' eyes, for he said, 'Yes, it is the form of a dragon she now bears.'

'If she shows up here, we won't let anyone hurt her. Unless - to save someone's life.'

Jayk nodded wearily. 'That is fair, and more than I could have hoped.'

Iolaus moved to grasp the man's arm. 'We'll get your mirror,' he said softly. 'You came to the right place. We've had plenty of experience in this line of work.'

'You have?' Jayk's surprise took the edge from the relief at having shared his dark secret.

Hercules gave him a smile. 'Years of experience.'

'Ask around,' Iolaus said. 'The locals will tell you. We've released people from lots of spells like this one.'

'Tell me?'

'Sure. Letsee, there was - huh, which was our first shape changer, Herc?'

Iolaus told one or two brief stories, both of which held Jayk's complete attention and seemed to restore hope and confidence. From the outer room, Hercules heard the healer's impatient footsteps, and knew the woman would be worrying they were tiring her patient, and undoing all her work. Sure enough, Genarra entered the room, her hands wrapped about a mug of some steaming herbal concoction. She eyed both Hercules and Iolaus accusingly as she took in Jayk's grey-faced exhaustion. Hercules flinched a little guiltily - she was right - he did look close to collapse. 'We're just going,' Hercules told her, inclining his chin to tell Iolaus to follow him and no arguments.

'Um,' Iolaus said, standing but not moving further. 'Translator?'

'Oh, right.' Hercules had to give him that one.

'What do you want me to tell him?' Iolaus turned and asked Genarra.

She gave him an exasperated look and said, 'Naught but what he can see for himself. He must rest. This tea will help him sleep and take away the pain.' She eyed Iolaus keenly, like a mother studying an errant child, and added acerbically, 'You would do well to find some rest yourself.'

'Right.' Iolaus ignored her disapproval to turn back and tell Jayk what she'd said, - editing out the unwanted advice given himself - and adding, 'Trust me, that stuff tastes awful, but it works. I left the wineskin under the bed. Wash it down when she's gone.'

Jayk flashed him an amused, conspiratorial grin, and nodded, earning both of them a suspicious grunt from Genarra.

'Out,' Hercules said. 'Before you get us both skinned alive.'

'I'm going, I'm going,' Iolaus said. He got only so far as the outer room, before he came to a halt, and said, 'Where are we going exactly?'

Hercules shrugged. But Kirsta appeared, holding a lantern. Giving what looked almost like a curtsy, she said, 'I will show you to your sleeping quarters. This way.' Iolaus flashed a grin and she blushed again, before leading the way outside and down the street a short way to a smaller house.

Iolaus gave his partner an unhappy look and said, 'A dragon! It had to be a dragon. I'm glad that one today wasn't her. I got an arrow in it, you know.'

Hercules groaned. It was going to be a long night.

'But - a _dragon,_ Herc! Why did she have to be changed into a dragon of all things?' Iolaus said again, sounding just as indignant as he had when he'd first found out.

Jayk had told them the detailed story of his travels when they'd returned to visit him at dawn and shared breakfast together. Genarra had allowed the man out of bed but insisted he not do anything strenuous. Hercules snorted - strenuous! - it was as well she didn't speak Latin and couldn't know what they were planning.

Iolaus had had enough trouble as it was getting the man away from her and smuggling him to the waiting fishing boat. Artfully using his most guileless expression - which only made her all the more suspicious - he'd assured her he'd do no more than show the man around and introduce him to the villagers. Jayk was now waiting at the beach with the boat and its crew, probably impatiently, as his two friends' check of the village's defense preparations had taken longer than anticipated. 'Defense preparations' was a rather grand term for some hastily contrived flimsy catapults, fire brands, spears, and water buckets. If the dragon should attack again it really came down to himself and Iolaus killing the thing before it could do any real damage.

'A dragon,' Iolaus said again, now sounding more resigned at least. A very familiar frown clouded his blue eyes and Hercules resisted the temptation to mouth the question he knew would follow. 'What if it had been her yesterday and I'd killed her? What if she shows up today?'

_Yup. That was the line, right on time._ Hercules sighed heavily, deciding enough was enough. Iolaus was, as usual, practically bouncing at his side with pent up agitation and energy as they headed toward the village's tiny harbor. He certainly hadn't seemed to suffer any after effects from yesterday's action. _Well, not of the physical kind. Emotionally, now that's another thing._ Hercules stopped abruptly. His partner continued a couple of paces before realizing Hercules wasn't following.

'What?' he said, and immediately scanned the sky expecting that Hercules had seen some sign of impending attack. The sky remained empty, a serene, cloudless blue above ocean to front and cliffs to rear.

'Stop,' Hercules said.

Iolaus frowned and tilted his head. 'I have. We have. And the tide won't wait forever, y'know.'

Hercules shook his head, smiled faintly and moved closer to take hold of his smaller partner's shoulders. 'Stop thinking about it. Stop talking about it. You're driving me crazy. Jayk was glad - is glad - you got an arrow into the purple dragon, and he told you several times that his dragon has never attacked anyone, so it won't be a problem.'

Iolaus put his hands to his hips, and gave Hercules an exasperated look. 'It won't be a problem. He also told us he's never seen another dragon before. So -'

'I know,' Hercules had to give him the point. He let go and resumed walking, his partner falling into stride beside him. 'We can't be sure how Jayk's lady dragon might act if - ' He stopped short of saying it. Somehow it was just too - weird. And crude.

'If she's got the hots for the big purple guy.'

Hercules shook his head again. 'I hope you won't say it like that around Jayk.'

Iolaus snorted. 'I don't know the Latin for 'got the hots'.'

Hercules' brows raised in surprise. 'You don't?'

'Well, not - for, not like ... Oh, never mind. The thing is if he's right, there might be two dragons on the prowl around here and how the Hades are we going to explain to the villagers that it's okay to try to kill the purple one but please don't harm the green one - assuming she even is still green - even if she's eating one of your kids.'

'You're exaggerating,' Hercules said.

'Am not,' Iolaus said. 'Exactly which part of what I said was something that might not happen?'

'The part where - ' Hercules stopped mid sentence and said, 'Wait, what do you mean, assuming she's still green?'

Iolaus opened his mouth, thought a moment, shrugged. 'I dunno. If she's been changed into a dragon, who knows how the spell might affect her. He said she was a paler color when he saw her the time before last.'

Hercules rubbed a hand over his brow. 'Oh great, something else to worry about.'

Iolaus grinned brilliantly. 'If I have to worry, so do you.'

Hercules snorted and cuffed his friend's head. 'Let's concentrate on one thing at a time. First we help him find this sacred mirror thing he lost in the crash, and then we worry about how to use it.'

'A mirror,' Iolaus said. 'It had to be a mirror. Made of glass. You don't really think it could have survived the crash without so much as a crack?'

'Jayk says it's well protected.'

'Yeah, right. You weren't with us when we hit the water. Trust me - I'm talking BIG crash.'

They rounded the curve of the street and walked beyond the last house out onto an open beach. Moored at a small wooden wharf, the fisher boat awaited them. It was little more than an over-sized row boat fitted with sails and had a small shelter amidship plus rails about its sides to prevent anyone falling overboard in stormy weather. Various brackets and lines had been secured to stays to aid hauling in a heavy catch and there were piles of rope and nets stacked neatly on the stern deck. Jayk was already aboard, standing at the railing, and waved his good hand when he saw them.

'Poor bastard looks so damm cheerful,' Iolaus said.

'Yeah, ' Hercules said wryly. 'He looks exactly the way you do when you've just escaped from a healer.'

'He didn't escape - exactly.' Iolaus flashed an impish smile as he looked up at his partner. 'I got permission to introduce him to the villagers - the fishermen are villagers.'

Hercules chuckled and walked carefully out on to the narrow, weather-worn, wooden dock, his eyes studying the cracked planking. He'd had such makeshift, ancient woodwork collapse under him before when he'd charged into a fight, and had never trusted them since. The foundations might be stone, but the decking was another matter.

'It's solid, Herc,' Iolaus said. 'Trust me. ' He jumped up and down to prove the point.

_I hate it when he does that._ The planking creaked and Hercules hurriedly jumped aboard the boat, which promptly rolled a little at anchor. He smiled a greeting to Jayk who had been watching Iolaus' wharf-testing with some bemusement.

'Are you sure you're..?' Hercules asked, eyeing the man's bruises and the bandaged arm.

'I'm fine,' Jayk said. 'Nothing can make me miss this.'

_If not for that thick accent, I swear he'd sound just like Iolaus. _'Good,' Hercules said politely. 'But no swimming, leave that to us.'

'I cannot swim,' Jayk said, distracted as he nodded a greeting to Iolaus who had also clambered aboard.

'You can't swim,' Hercules said, deadpan.

'Not at all,' Jayk said, turning back to him with a wry grin. 'I admit I was a little - unhappy - when I must journey over the water in my balloon.' Jayk looked away as the owner of the fishing boat called to his men to haul in the mooring lines and up sail.

'Unhappy?' Iolaus said in Greek to Hercules, 'this guy is crazy.'

Hercules snorted. 'Or in love.'

'With a dragon, Herc, a dragon.'

'She wasn't a dragon when he met her.'

Iolaus simply rolled his eyes and shook his head. Jayk looked back to them, and having heard the word, 'dragon' used many times today in the native language, had caught its meaning.

'The mirror will change her back,' he repeated what he'd told them. 'All we need do is find her and hold it up before her eyes.'

Hercules dug his partner in the ribs before he could make any further acerbic comments, and asked, 'The oracle was sure it would work?'

'Indeed. She told me where to find the sacred mirror, and it was there. She cannot speak an untruth.' Jayk held his gaze imploringly. 'Is this not also as your people believe?'

Hercules nodded and ran a hand over his hair as the ship began to make way and the breeze caught at him. 'Yes, that's what the people believe.' _Just don't count me as a true believer._ He knew that the oracle of Delphi could twist the truth in any number of different ways. She always had a ready explanation for anyone who might return to complain her omens had not panned out the way they were supposed to. But, seeing the depth of hope in Jayk's eyes, Hercules could only pray that this would be one of the rare times when she got it exactly right. _Without any of the usual hidden surprises._

'Well.' Iolaus broke the tension. 'Let's hope we can find the mirror for you first.'

'I do not think that the current will have taken it,' Jayk repeated. 'It was in the chest that was wrapped about by the anchor chain.'

'It was heavy enough to stay put,' Hercules agreed, remembering the struggle to haul it and the trapped man to the surface. 'You're lucky your ankle wasn't broken.'

Jayk smiled and looked down at his bruised foot. 'It is a little sore. I think the rope snaring it like that was the oracle's way of making sure I did not lose the mirror. And then she sent you and Iolaus to save me.'

Hercules refrained from pointing out the obvious flaw in that logic - if the sacred mirror and/or oracle was supposed to protect him, he shouldn't have crashed in the first place.

'I know what is in your thoughts,' Jayk said. 'It is truth. I know how close I came to death - but I did not die. You saved me.' Hercules had to admit that truth, and hoped that maybe the man was right about the rest, too.

'We've seen stranger things, Herc,' Iolaus put in, supporting the Gallaecian. 'Maybe we were meant to meet, to help him.'

'Maybe,' Hercules said, giving them both a smile. 'Maybe.'


	4. Chapter 4

COMPLETION OF STORY (hope you enjoy! Carolyn)

They stood leaning on the railing together and watching the beautiful vista of white-capped blue-green ocean swells and azure sky stretch out before them, while the limestone cliffs and beach grew smaller behind. Hercules and Iolaus studied the horizon closely for sign of the dragon returning, but more so to try to recall exactly where the balloon had hit the water and gone under. Hercules recalled that when he had first taken his bearings to haul the unconscious man back to shore, the point of the headland that hid the village almost exactly lined up with the higher promontory to the south. He eyed his partner and Iolaus said, 'Yeah, this looks right.'

'This is far enough, Tyron,' Hercules called to the fisher captain. The deeply tanned, stocky little man hurried forward, watching his two younger crewmen drop anchor. All three then turned and looked expectantly at the passengers. _I bet this is a lot more interesting than sitting around waiting for the fish to bite,_ Hercules thought ruefully. _It's always fun to watch a couple of madmen at work._

''I hope the water's not as cold as yesterday,' Iolaus said as he peeled out of his vest and boots.

'The current doesn't look to be running out as hard, at least.'

'Not late enough in the day,' Tyron put in tersely as he moved by them to the prow. 'I hope the boat does not attract sharks.'

'Sharks?' Iolaus said, not particularly worried - he and Hercules had taken on far worse carnivores.

Tyron seemed impishly pleased and was deliberately trying to unsettle them. But his face fell as he read the genuine lack of concern in Iolaus' response. Still, he added over his shoulder, 'They are accustomed to us throwing the guts of our catch overboard.'

'Oh.' Iolaus said, his hand checking the secure fit of the knife at his belt.

'What?' Jayk wanted to know.

'Nothing. Just talking about fish,' Hercules said.

'_Big_ fish. With teeth,' Iolaus elaborated.

Jayk frowned. 'I did not think of the dangers. You have already -'

Iolaus snorted and clapped the man on his undamaged left shoulder. 'That's what this is for,' he said, patting the knife sheathed at his belt. 'Don't worry, me and the big guy have taken on a lot worse than a shark or two and won the fight. We'll be fine.'

Jayk didn't look much happier. 'I do not doubt that you are capable warriors. I doubt my right to ask you to do this thing.'

Hercules looked up at him from where he'd sat on the deck to pull off his boots. 'Iolaus lost his sword down there yesterday, too' he said with a wry smile. 'Trust me, he doesn't go anywhere without it.'

Iolaus laughed. 'Sleep with it every night! And the last time I saw it was right next to that anchor chest of yours. Which should be -' he leaned over the side of the boat and eyed the water as if he could see through its depths. 'Straight down there.' A sudden shiver went through him, a vivid image of that impossibly far off beckoning sunlight high above a cold blue void weighing him down, and the intense pressure in his lungs, aching for open air. He swallowed hard, shook himself a little, and looked up to see Hercules had, as ever, understood.

The big man gripped his shoulder, gave him a reassuring smile, eyes locked with his as he said, 'Together.'

The moment's chill foreboding was gone, washed away in that warmth, and Iolaus flashed a genuine grin, said, 'Race you!' and took off in a smooth dive over the railing.

***SCENE BREAK

At the ship's port rail, Jayk lifted a hand to shade his eyes, and squinted against the glare of dazzling sunlight on blue water. The two men stayed underwater so long that his mouth ran dry with fear until finally they resurfaced. They yelled that they hadn't found anything yet, swam wider out from the boat, and disappeared underwater again. This procedure was repeated several times, in ever widening circles away from the boat. Jayk began to despair of finding the wreckage. Then suddenly, Iolaus erupted out of the sea, something held in his upraised right fist reflecting light brilliantly . The sword! He whooped, 'We found it!' and Jayk waved happily back. He saw Hercules surface for air, then dive back again. Iolaus swam somewhat awkwardly back to the boat, the sword slowing him as he was forced to maintain his grip, having left his scabbard aboard ship.

Iolaus threw the sword on deck and climbed nimbly aboard, shaking seawater from his hair, and dripping more from his body, creating a mini pool on the weathered wooden decking. He slapped a wet hand to Jayk's good arm and grinned bright victory as he said, 'They were both there, Jayk. They hadn't moved, my sword, your chest. Hercules is hauling it up for you.' He moved forward a couple of paces, picked up the scabbard he'd left with his clothing, and happily resheathed the sword and buckled it at his hips. He straightened again to call to Tyron, who immediately yelled orders to his men. Iolaus turned about and translated, 'We're going to fix a line from the boat to the chest, so it'll be easier to haul on board.'

'My thanks.' Jayk nodded heartfelt gratitude, wondering how he could have managed if he had not found these two quietly gracious, generous friends. Not to mention an entire village of hospitable people who had taken him in without so much as a question. He must see to it that he did whatever possible to keep them safe from dragons. Maybe, now he had the mirror back, if he could find Estelle and change her back, the purple dragon would go elsewhere in search of a mate.

'Iolaus!' Hercules shouted from the water. Jayk saw the big man had surfaced, one hand tightly holding the anchor chain that was still wrapped about the chest. Jayk's eyes widened in delight as he saw it again. It was hard to tell from here, but it didn't look to be badly damaged. The anchor chain must have stopped it being dragged about by the current. Hercules' strength never ceased to amaze him - how the man could hold that weight and still stay afloat was incredible.

On deck, Iolaus picked up the coil of rope, one end of which had been secured to a metal bracket fixed into the deck boards. He swung it high above his head, gathering momentum, then let it go flying out over the water. It dropped accurately at Hercules' side, and he tied it off to the chain, then signaled they could start hauling in. Iolaus and Tyron's men heaved. Jayk wanted to help, but knew he'd only hinder them, even if he didn't have a broken shoulder. In the water, Hercules kept the chest upright and moving smoothly, guiding it with an upward shove now and then when it threatened to twist the rope and sink.

Then, seeing it under control of the crew and close to the boat, Hercules yelled up at Iolaus, 'I dropped my knife by the wreck! I'm going back for it.' Iolaus waved a hand to indicate he'd heard, and the big man turned about and swam back some distance before diving again.

With the men concentrating on hauling in the chest to an accompaniment of rattling chains and loud scraping and lots of yelling, Jayk was first to notice the approaching sound. The thump-beat of huge wings pushing at the air. Dragon! Even as he looked up, its shadow fell across the boat and he shouted warning in unison with Iolaus who had swiveled about as the sunlight was blocked. 'It's attacking!' Jayk cried, more than familiar with the pattern. It was the big male, the one Jayk had gotten a closer than he wanted look at yesterday. Its purple hide flashed magnificent iridescence in the brilliant sun as it banked and dove, swooping smoothly down on the boat.

'Take cover!' Iolaus shouted and grabbed Jayk's arm, hauling him toward the forward hold access hatch. Tyron and his men had already disappeared into the stern hatch. Jayk moved hurriedly but awkwardly onto the hatch ladder, slowing Iolaus who had no time to pull the hatch shut over them before the dragon let loose a gush of flame. The heat seared downward and Iolaus yelped and dropped from the ladder to land atop some bales of supplies not much further down.

'Are you hurt?' Jayk called, cursing his useless arm as he tried to move faster.

'No,' Iolaus called, 'Just a little warm.'

Jayk breathed relief, hearing the dragon's wing beats change as its speed carried it beyond the boat. It would bank and turn swiftly at them again. Already Iolaus was moving, aware that those few moments were all they had to save the boat and its crew. He grabbed a line that hung down into the hold and shimmied up it as nimbly as a monkey. 'What are you going to do?' Jayk asked, following him back out into the hot glaring sunlight.

'Get my bow!' Iolaus said breathlessly, moving along the charred deck boards carefully, his bare feet avoiding the hottest spots. Jayk noted the small wheelhouse was on fire and the crew were dousing it with buckets of sea water. Jayk picked up one of the empty pails and bent to scoop water from below the stern rail. He could see Hercules swimming urgently toward them, but too far off to reach them before the dragon could return.

The sound of wing beats rent the air again, and Jayk frowned puzzlement. It was coming from the wrong direction, and it sounded different - familiar in another way... He squinted up into the dazzling blue sky and saw it - a flash of green , rapidly growing larger. The crew had left off fighting the fire which was all but drowned, and instead were moving to adjust what must be some kind of weapon on the forward deck. Jayk peered more closely, horrified when he realized it was a huge spear, fixed to what looked something like a catapult.

'No!' Jayk cried urgently, aware they too had seen the newcomer. Iolaus had taken up position, bow and arrow in hand, quiver on his back, on the other side of the wheelhouse, and was tracking the distant approach of the purple dragon. He turned away to see what was happening behind him, and Jayk heard him utter what must be a curse. He put down the bow and came round the wheel house to yell at Tyron. The small seaman looked up at Iolaus, his expression annoyed and disbelieving. He shouted something, shook his head, and urged his men to ready the spear. Iolaus took a pace forward, and Jayk hurried toward them, hearing Estelle's wingbeats coming closer, closer. He looked desperately up at her, waved his good arm and yelled, 'Estelle! No! Keep back!'

'That's her?' Iolaus called, distracted. At that moment the male dragon's giant shadow fell across them once more. Iolaus said 'Look out!' and leaped forward to knock Jayk aside just as the purple dragon came in for the kill, talons extended. Iolaus rolled smoothly to his feet, sword drawn, his hair flung back from his face as he hacked at the clawed forelegs and was buffeted by the wing beats. The monster bellowed in pain as the blade bit into the scaled flesh of the left talon. But the other talon closed about Iolaus' upper left shoulder and pulled him off his feet. The dragon hauled him up and into the air. It shook him fiercely, causing Iolaus to yell in pain and drop the sword which clattered to the deck.

'No!' Jayk shouted.

Tyron and his men yelled in dismay, trying to turn the spear about, then, stopping, aware they might as easily harm Iolaus as the dragon. A shadow fell over the boat, and Jayk looked behind, saw Estelle hovering watching. She had seen Iolaus save him from being taken by the male.

Jayk did his best to hold her gaze, hoping something human remained, as he called pleadingly, 'Help the man! Estelle - go! Get him back!' Jayk waved his uninjured arm urgently forward where the purple dragon was rapidly receding from view toward the sea cliffs, Iolaus hanging helplessly from its talons.

The green dragon's head dipped, but whether in acknowledgment or simply because she was banking to turn away, Jayk could not say. Then, there was a loud thud and the deck shook as Hercules jumped aboard. His firm hand grasped Jayk's good shoulder so hard that he winced. The big man spun him about to face him, and Jayk read horror and frantic hope in those piercing eyes. Seawater fell in torrents from his clinging hair and drenched clothing, yet his face seemed chiseled from rock, desperately controlling emotion.

'That was your lady?' he asked. Jayk nodded, tears filling his eyes, both for Estelle and for Iolaus. 'Did she understand? Will she help?'

Jayk met those burning, frantic eyes and answered truthfully, 'I don't know. Maybe. I'm not sure she remembers...'

'Get the damm mirror, and follow me!' Hercules snapped. He took a pace forward to collect Iolaus' fallen sword and cut a piece of rope, wrapped the weapon's hilt and tied it about his waist. 'Tyron knows the cave.'

He turned, and flung himself in a smooth dive over the railing, knifing into the sea and coming up again some distance forward of the boat. The crew had finished hauling in the chest which was sitting in a pool of water on the port deck. Jayk looked up to tell Tyron what had been said, but could see the man had figured it out for himself. He and his crew were moving urgently about, hauling sail, and already the ship was turning against the tide, nosing for shore.

High above, Jayk could see the green dragon winging steadily to shore, gaining slightly on the purple who was slowed by its burden.

***SCENE BREAK

The ever-spinning view of sea, sky and cliffs was nauseating, and Iolaus gave up struggling and punching - it was having no affect whatever on the fearsome strength of the creature holding him in its claws. All he had managed was to cause himself deeper wounds. And he'd need all his strength for the battle to come. He wished he'd taken the time to put his vest back on when he'd returned to the boat - the leather would have given him some protection. The leather strap that secured the quiver at his back was still in place - on the opposite shoulder - and he doubted it would have survived being shredded by the talons if the dragon had grabbed him there. The specially made metal-barbed heavy bolts were still in the quiver and might make handy weapons even without a bow to fire them. Much to his dismay, he'd been forced to drop his sword, though he still wore the scabbard. He had only his belt knife, and the arrow-bolts. Not much by way of defense against a fire-breathing dragon, but he'd make do. All his weight hung from the digging points of the cruel talons. He could feel warm blood running down his otherwise cold chest. The unpredictable air currents combined with the regular thrust and updraft of the wings to create a constant icy turbulence that pulled him back, then forward in the dragon's wake. He gritted his teeth over the agony as the talons dug ever deeper.

He couldn't afford to pass out now, had no intention of being an easy meal when the dragon delivered him to its den. Somehow, he'd have to buy time until Hercules could arrive to help him kill the thing. He seriously doubted he'd be fit enough to go it alone; his left arm hung numb and useless, and he wondered if the initial impact had broken the collar bone. The agonizing grip crushed as much as cut, and he could feel various ribs protesting the strain. It was becoming ever harder to draw breath, and the overpowering stench wafting from the creature's hide wasn't helping. It was so thick that he could taste as well as smell it. Or maybe what he was tasting was its blood, dripping stickily from the wound he'd hacked in the left forepaw. He took savage satisfaction in the thought, and looking down at himself, saw that indeed there was a greenish ichor splattered from his chest to his bare feet. The creature suddenly banked into the wind and began to drop swiftly lower, the sea cliffs immediately beneath seeming to rush up toward them.

Iolaus craned his neck, tried to search the sea for sign of Hercules, but was too dizzy to do more than spot the dusty white sails billowing on the boat as it too headed for shore. Knowing Hercules, he wouldn't have waited, but would be in the water, and probably making better time.

He gasped as the dragon suddenly dove steeply for a dark opening in the cliff wall, and it seemed to Iolaus that the huge body could never clear the narrow entrance. Then the leathery wings were closing on him, tucking into the sides, the talons lifting him nearer the belly. Between the scaled forelegs he caught one terrifying glimpse of shadowed rock walls rushing at him. Was the dragon planning to dash him against the hard limestone, smash him open, make easy pickings? But no, it braked suddenly, wingtips scraping over dirt and stone beneath them. Iolaus' stomach lurched as the motion brought fiery pain searing through him. The talons released to drop him with a bone-jarring thud on solid rock and blackness took him.

Groggily, desperate, he shook his head, aware of the creature's putrid hot breath pulsing and hissing about him. He struggled to his knees and lifted his head to see the purple dragon crouching not far off, its cunning golden eyes narrowed, studying him voraciously. There was cruel intelligence in those eyes, the thing wasn't stupid, was using its bulky body to block the exit. Iolaus could see bright daylight streaming about its silhouetted form, gleaming and flashing about the cave, reflected from the creature's blue-green scales. He tried to turn his head to see what lay behind him deeper in the cave, but could only gasp over the pain of movement. All he could manage was to catch a glimpse of a deeper darkness.

He seriously doubted there was another way out, and he was in no shape for climbing fast enough to outrun a dragon. And it was far too dark back there to see if there might be narrow ledges under which he could find refuge from the thing's teeth. Still, he got to his feet and backed up hopefully, stumbling with the pain and weakness of his wounds. He bent dizzily and pulled his knife from his belt. Its blade caught the light as he hefted it in his fist and the dragon hissed and roared so angrily that its very breath sent him reeling backward.

_Wait, not the knife! Need to keep that for later,_ he decided and shoved it back in his belt. _I can throw the arrows. I hope._ Awkwardly, gritting his teeth over the agony of it, he reached up his good arm, and drew out as many of the unusually heavy, thick shafted bolts as his fist would hold, then dropped them at his feet. He sank back to his knees, unable to stand upright for the dizziness making the cave seem to roll about him.

The creature took a cautious pace toward him, hissing a challenge, aware he was preparing to fight. Yellow eyes flashing in the gloom, huge teeth bared, it lowered its long neck and swung its head toward him. Flames flickered at its nostrils, and Iolaus' heart leaped with sheer dread. He stood no chance against fire, not in these confined quarters. Desperate, he turned his head, hoping to make out some kind of shelter, boulders, anything. But it was too dark, or he was too close to unconsciousness to find what might aid him. He heard the creature give a belching roar and flinched, but there was no heat, no burst of flame. Then he remembered its attack on the balloon yesterday - it had leveled just the one burst of fire. Maybe that was all it could release without refueling? It had already tried to burn Tyron's ship out from under them.

Carefully, Iolaus picked up several arrows, ramming their fletched ends into his belt where they would be ready to aim and throw in rapid succession. Repeatedly bending down was definitely not in his range of can-do-without-passing-out at the moment. Still, the dragon sat, hesitant, studying him, and he wondered what was holding it back. His narrow view of the light at the entrance suddenly disappeared in complete shadow, throwing the cavern into total darkness. There was the hiss-thump of wing beats, and then the stirring of dust and the sound of the purple dragon shifting about.

Iolaus braced for battle, then the thin light returned and he gaped, watching in disbelief as the green dragon made her entry. She was much smaller than the purple who had stood to one side to give her room, and she moved further forward, closer to Iolaus. In this confined space, the extra body meant neither creature could use its full reach to best advantage. Nor was the cavern roof high enough to allow either to take off and lunge at him from above.

The big male roared greeting and challenge, the sound so loud, so intense, reverberating from the rock walls, that Iolaus was sure his eardrums would burst. He stood wavering, uncertain, watching his captors. Was the purple angry at the intruder? No, it lowered its head in a submissive gesture, its nose prodding the green's flank in what could be either caress, or invitation to dinner. Or both.

_Oh, fine, I'm the wedding gift and the feast. What a way to die!_

Both dragon heads swung about to regard him now, hunger in every line of the purple's scaled face. Hunger and lust. The male took one thundering step forward, stumbled on its bad leg, and bellowed pain and hatred. Reminded of its injury, and blinded by pain, it seemed to forget its companion. Its neck stretched forward, its head lashing viciously at Iolaus, teeth bared.

Iolaus ducked swiftly aside, and threw his first arrow which pierced the flesh about the creature's nostrils. It shrieked in shock and pain and pulled back._ That has to hurt,_ Iolaus decided with satisfaction, noting the arrow remained embedded in the soft spot. The dragon's eyes narrowed and evil light flickered in their depths. It bowed its head and lifted a forepaw to dislodge the arrow.

The green hissed, and lifted her head, eyes settling on Iolaus as he turned toward her with alarm. Was that fire flickering about her nose? Damn it, she hadn't used up her store yet. Or had she? Could female dragons breathe fire? Whatever, he had to find cover. He stumbled back in the shadows, his useless left arm hanging, but able to give him information as it brushed against rocky surfaces. There was a boulder, or something like it at his back. If he could just -

Taking advantage of his divided attention, the purple dragon lunged again. Yelping a curse, Iolaus rolled backward, hearing the thing's teeth snap shut way too close over his head. Now he was at least partially covered by the boulder, feeling it shudder as the dragon, unable to pull up in time, slammed into it snout first. There was another tremendous bellow of outrage and pain. Iolaus could tell the male had no more patience, was no longer interested in impressing its prospective mate.

Crouching on his knees, Iolaus pulled another arrow from his belt, and stuck his head above the boulder to make his target. At the same time, the male struck out with its forepaw, using all its force to smash the boulder and drive it and the man back. Rock fragments splintered and flew, cutting Iolaus' chest and face, and the force of it sent him sprawling on his back. Winded, barely conscious, he lay defenseless.

He opened bleary eyes to see the purple dragon's huge scaled head lowering toward him, a dusty halo of gold shining from behind it in the disturbed air. A long, thick forked tongue flickered out, tasting, smelling human blood, fear, and sweat. Groggily, Iolaus shoved his fist upward, arrow in hand, but the creature was too quick for him, swinging its massive head aside and knocking the arrow from the fist. The green hissed at him from the other side of the cavern, and took a shuddering step closer. The purple hesitated, its chest rumbling with sound, flanks heaving as it panted with bloodlust. Then the male's head lowered again, reluctant but obedient. It moved back a fraction, and the green moved forward, coming between it and Iolaus.

Iolaus stumbled to his feet and grabbed for his knife, hoping to slash at the eyes as the thing lowered its head to feed. There was silence but for the harsh rasp of the dragon's hot breath. Abruptly, it sat back on its haunches and tail.

Iolaus looked up and up, met its eyes, and froze in disbelief and puzzlement. Why was it waiting? Maybe he could make a break for it, run under the thing's bulk and make it outside. Back to life and light. Maybe. If he was uninjured, and if he only had the one dragon to dodge. He looked again into the green's face, trying to figure her intent - he wasn't sure how to read her expression. This was Jayk's formerly human lover... Was there any hope that some of that person remained buried in the reptilian mind?

The purple had lost patience. Its tongue flicked out again, this time licking blood from Iolaus' chest and causing him to stumble backward. Its forepaw reached for him, talons extended. Iolaus felt bare rock against his back. There was nowhere else to go, it had him trapped.

Iolaus lunged, hacking and cutting, but only nicked the tough scales. The next he knew, he was pinned on his back, the talons encircling his torso without touching him, caging him in. The purple gave an odd puffing sound, and Iolaus looked up to see what he would swear was amused cruelty in those golden eyes. It wanted to toy with him, drag out his death, repay him for the wounds he'd inflicted. Iolaus gulped, his mouth dry, his heart racing. He could not reach his pitiful weapons, lay helpless, exposed beneath a creature many times his strength. He heard the talons shift. One claw lifted, gleaming black-red, razor-edged, curled, ready to disembowel.

Abruptly, the forepaw was shoved aside as the green pushed hard forward, and the male was forced to give way. Furiously, it turned, teeth bared to snap at the green, but she dodged his attack, lowered her head, and licked his flank with a long, soothing tongue. The purple rumbled, lust aroused. It eyed Iolaus one last time and stepped back. It seemed that the female must be allowed to feed first if there was to be a mating.

Again, Iolaus looked up into the face, hoping against hope. He met and held the green's glowing eyes, and felt that hope suddenly flare to full strength. There was intelligence in that gaze, concern, awareness. It was like looking into a pair of human eyes. And, as Iolaus watched in groggy amazement, one of those eyes slowly closed in what could only be a wink.

She shifted again, moving to completely block the purple's path, and his view of what she was doing with the human. She lowered her head but did no more, simply watching him, gentleness in her regard. Gentleness and something else, an urging of him to play along. Iolaus nodded and obliged with a loud scream. Again, the green winked and her lips curved as if with amusement. Iolaus gaped a little, wondering if maybe he was already dying, being eaten alive, and his mind was playing games with him. A _dragon_ had come to his rescue?!

But the game couldn't last long. The purple would want at least some share of the feeding. If Iolaus could somehow make the green understand his need for distraction, could have her block the purple as he made a run for it -

'Iolaus!'

'Hercules!' Iolaus' answer was a whisper of surprise. And shock. Never could he recall hearing such despairing grief and terror in his friend's voice. He had called as if not expecting an answer. Then Iolaus remembered his fake scream. _Damn!_ The demigod would come charging in here, gone berserk, ready to kill and be killed in a grief-fueled orgy of vengeance.

'Herc!' Iolaus shouted, or tried to shout. He drew breath again, defying the choking, fiery pain in his chest to bellow with all his might, 'Herc! I'm okay!'

'Iolaus?' came the reply, shaken with hope and relief.

'Join the party! I saved some for -'

The purple snarled, lunging, trying to push the green aside. The two dragons grappled a moment, teeth snapping, forepaws lifting to tear at the other's hide, but not really doing any damage. The purple was hoping to keep his mate intact and the green had never fought like this before. Iolaus edged sideways along the rock wall, hoping to get clear, mindful of thrashing legs and tails. He glanced up as the light flickered in the entryway.

There was Hercules, Iolaus' sword shining in his upraised fist, his powerful form back-lit by the dying day's blue-gold sky. _Go, Herc!_

'Iolaus?' he repeated, unable to see his friend for the dust and the struggling reptilian forms.

'Here!' Iolaus yelled, and gasped over the pain of it.

He moved forward only to be sent stumbling as a dragon wing tip caught at him. He went to his knees, panting over weakness and pain, his sight swimming and darkness threatening the edge of his awareness. Through a blurred haze he saw Hercules hurrying toward him. And the purple dragon saw him, too.

'Watch it!' Iolaus shouted, and threw his knife with all the strength left to him. It hit the dragon's face, by sheer chance nicking the multifaceted eye. It swung back toward him, deadly earnest, mouth agape. No more games, it would snap him in two.

Just as suddenly, the purple monster recoiled, giving a gargling cry of agony. It reared up and Iolaus saw Hercules was under it, stabbing again and again with the sword. The dragon slammed down, attempting to pin its attacker. Hercules rolled clear, but left the sword embedded in the creature's belly. Ichor spilled out from its gut, making the footing slippery. Hercules stumbled as he came to Iolaus' side. The purple dragon swung back, its flashing teeth swooping down to take Hercules' head from his shoulders. Somehow, the green blocked him, bringing down one wing protectively, covering both men with its leathery hide. The purple did not pull its attack. Its teeth bit hard into the wing, and Iolaus flinched as the green gave a remarkably human cry of pain.

'She saved me...' Iolaus panted. 'Coupla times.'

Hercules nodded, his hands reaching hesitantly, wanting to drag Iolaus to safety but unsure for all the gore that covered him. 'How badly are you hurt?'

Iolaus shook his head. 'Scratches. Herc, she knows ... who she is. We gotta... help her.'

'Later. First we get -'

The purple dragon swung back, trying to block any escape. Its shoulder slammed into both men, sent them sprawling to be brought to a slamming stop by the rear cave wall. Iolaus lost consciousness completely for a few instants, and when next he opened his eyes and propped himself up, he saw Hercules had rejoined the fight. The big man was sitting astride the male dragon's neck, slamming a huge rock down again and again onto the skull.

Groggily, Iolaus swayed to his feet, blinking as he realized the green dragon was nowhere in sight. Why had she left the cave so suddenly? Iolaus gave up on that puzzle, looked back to the fight, saw the male dragon had managed to lift a hind paw to try to claw at Hercules, seeking to dislodge and trample him to death. Iolaus could see his sword still sticking in the belly. He took a few staggering steps, intending to retrieve the weapon and lop the thing's head from its body.

'No! Stay back!' Hercules yelled.

Iolaus frowned, he could tell by the tone of voice that the words were not directed at him. And glancing up at his partner, he could see Hercules was looking at someone back at the cavern mouth. Iolaus took another stumbling pace and at the same time, the purple dragon moved to give him a clear view of the entry way.

Jayk was standing there, one arm in a sling, a knife in his good hand, but looking very uncertain as to what to do next. He had what looked like a shield strapped to his back, and behind him, trying to peer into the cave, was the green dragon.

'Leave this to us!' Iolaus said, and charged in under the male's body to grip his sword hilt and pull it clear.

Hercules was wearing the creature down, Iolaus could tell it was barely conscious, its brain taking a mighty hammering. It staggered and Iolaus hefted his sword, rammed it hard up into the arteries in the lower throat. A spurting flood of hot, thick blood and ichor rained down on him, steam hissed as it met cold rock.

Scalded, Iolaus yelped and jumped clear, gripping his sword tightly. Hercules thudded another massive blow to the monster's head and with a gargling, sighing groan it collapsed. Iolaus fell to his knees, panting, exhausted, but ready to level a killing blow if needed. The purple hide quivered, shuddered, then fell still and did not breathe again.

Hercules jumped clear of the scaled neck ridge and hurried to place a steadying hand to Iolaus' arm. Gently, he pulled Iolaus to his feet and they both stood, Iolaus wavering dazedly, each meeting the other's eyes.

Iolaus grinned tiredly and said breathlessly, 'That takes care of that problem.'

Hercules tried to say something, but it came out a strangled croak, and Iolaus saw with surprise that his friend's eyes shone with unshed tears. Then, Hercules tugged him hard against his warm chest, and held him secure a moment, struggling to regain control of his emotions.

'Hey...' Iolaus said softly. 'It's over.' He felt the big man nod, and draw a steadying breath. Iolaus added wryly, 'You can let me breathe again anytime now.'

'Oh, yeah.' Hercules let him free, but kept one tight hand on his good arm, for which Iolaus was grateful. He was pretty sure he'd fall flat on his face without help. Slowly, Hercules smiled, and said, 'I thought you were dead. Again.'

Iolaus snorted. 'I thought I _was_ dead! Again.'

Predictably, Hercules began studying his injuries, his face drawn down in a worried frown.

'Where's Jayk?' Iolaus asked.

'Here,' the man answered.

Hercules and Iolaus turned to regard him and saw relief and admiration in the man's expression. 'I was so sure I'd be too late.'

Iolaus looked at him quizzically. 'You _were_ too late. Sorry. Herc didn't leave any for you. '

Jayk laughed and shook his head. 'That's not what I meant.' He came into the cave, moved to Iolaus' other side, supporting him as Hercules began leading him out. 'Is he always like this?' Jayk asked.

Hercules chuckled. 'Always.'

'I have no idea what you two... whoa!'

Iolaus came to a halt as he stepped clear of the cavern mouth at last to be met by a dizzying view. He had not realized how high up the cavern was situated. Far to the west he could see the sun sinking lower on the horizon. Immediately below was a rocky shoreline, an impossible jumble of boulders and rock-pools, continually pounded by rolling breakers. Standing off shore a little way was Tyron's boat. The crew were waving and cheering like mad, having caught sight of the survivors.

'That's quite a climb,' Iolaus said faintly. It was ridiculous, but somehow, being out here in the warm sunlight and fresh air again made him much more aware of how much he hurt. Hercules' grip tightened, and Iolaus looked up at him to say wearily, 'Do you mind if we camp here the night?'

'You're not going anywhere until I get this bleeding stopped, at least,' Hercules said. 'Sit down before you fall down.'

'Good idea,' Iolaus agreed.

Hercules eased him down to sit in a drift of warm sand close against the cliff wall. Iolaus could feel hard and brittle pieces of something that felt like bones half-buried in the sand and decided he didn't want to find out if they were animal or human.

'Here,' Jayk said, giving a package to Hercules. 'I grabbed this when Estelle came for me. Thought you could use it.'

Iolaus realized his eyes weren't working too well, everything was losing focus. But he could swear Jayk held the box of bandaging and medicines Tyron kept on the boat.

'Where? How?' he asked, blinking at his new friend.

Taking a clean piece of cloth, Hercules began gingerly wiping away some of the muck and gore to get a better look at the wounds on Iolaus' shoulder and chest.

'Ow,' he said absently, still trying to figure the other puzzle. 'How did you get up here so fast, Jayk?'

'Estelle gave me a ride,' Jayk grinned down at him. 'Don't ask me how, but she heard me yelling to her from the boat. I told her I had to get up here fast. It was wonderful - like - like _really_ flying, at last.'

'Oh.' Iolaus decided he was too far out of it to decipher much of that image right now.

But he could see the dragon eyeing him, concern in her eyes, from behind Jayk's shoulder. She had to be standing on a ledge lower down, her neck craned to watch them. Iolaus decided muzzily that it was amazing how one dragon could show such gentleness and the other such savagery. Then, groggily, it came back to him again.

'Estelle? That's her name?'

Jayk nodded, distracted as he handed over some kind of ointment from the supply box. At his back, the shield moved, flashing golden light as it reflected the sun's rays. No, not a shield - a mirror!

'So -' Iolaus gasped as his partner's gentle fingers began smearing ointment on the deep gashes. 'So, is that the mirror? When are you gonna try it?'

Jayk grunted as if in pain, and his face stiffened. 'I already did. I held it while she looked.'

'But -' Iolaus said, looking back to where he could see the green dragon's inquisitive eyes watching them.

Jayk shook his head and Iolaus heard him give a gulping breath as he fought tears. 'It doesn't work.'

Iolaus swallowed hard, thinking, _No! We can't leave her like that! It's just not fair! _'Maybe,' he said hesitantly. 'Maybe it only needs more time.'

'No.' Again, Jayk shook his head. 'The oracle promised me it would change her back in an instant. It doesn't work. It was all a lie.'

Hercules took the bandaging Jayk had collected for him and began unwinding it about Iolaus' shoulder and ribs. 'What exactly did she tell you?' Hercules wanted to know. 'Sometimes it's like a riddle. She says one thing, but means another.'

'Then it is a cruel riddle,' Jayk said, anger giving a sharp edge to his words. 'To trick someone when they come to you seeking help.'

'There might be another way, another answer in what she said,' Iolaus supported, even though he was not at all sure he wanted to give false hope. 'We've heard of other dealings with the oracle. She rarely disappoints completely.'

Jayk sighed heavily and sat down at Iolaus' side. He gazed up at the dragon watching him so knowingly. 'Then I will tell you, exactly as the oracle tells me. The moment Estelle looks into the mirror of the soul she will see her true self reflected there. And seeing will return to you in her original form, just as you remember her.' Jayk blinked back tears and turned away to look out at the sunset. 'Lies.' He let the mirror slip from his shoulder to fall with a dull thud into the sand. It lay there, reflecting the last of the day's light.

'The mirror of the soul,' Hercules said softly, 'That's exactly what she called it?' Jayk nodded, too choked for words.

'The gods say the eyes are the mirror of the soul,' Iolaus added.

'The eyes?' Jayk repeated, his tone flat and dispirited.

'It's a long shot, but...' Hercules said. 'Call her to you. Get her face as close to you as possible.'

Jayk's eyes widened, his expression lit with desperate hope, and he looked up at Hercules and Iolaus.

'Go for it,' Iolaus said. 'Show her how much you love her.'

Swallowing back emotion, Jayk called, 'Estelle? Come, my love. I would hold you in my arms.'

Slowly, the green dragon brought her great, green-scaled head lower, lower, until her jaw rested on the ledge on which the men sat. Carefully, she edged forward until Jayk could hold her head in his lap. The man was crying openly now, his tears falling on her upturned face. He leaned down, lay his face against hers for a moment, then drew back to look long in her eyes.

Watching, Iolaus could see the man's face reflected in the dragon's many faceted, glistening eyes. Jayk's gaze spoke eloquently of love, of the long months in desperate search, of yearning to be reunited with the one he held most dear.

'Hey!' Iolaus said, grunting a little over the pain. Hercules had seen it too, was propping him up. There was something subtly different about the dragon's face. As if her shape was shifting melting, reforming.

'Estelle?' Jayk said in surprise. His arms had been wrapped tightly about the giant head, but suddenly no longer touched her.

Then, with a flashing sparkle of light, she was gone. He held nothing. 'Estelle!' he cried in alarm. 'Where are you?'

'Over here,' came a woman's lilting voice, sounding overawed, elated.

The three men turned about to see her standing above them, on the cliff rim, her slim form clothed in dazzling golden light as the sunset cloaked her form.

'Jayk!' she cried, tears of joy thick in the words, 'Jayk! It worked! I'm back! Jayk! Hurry! Come to me!'

'Well, would you look at that,' Hercules said.

'Yeah, the mirror of the soul. That was the trick,' Iolaus mused. 'But he had to pass the test first, by finding the other mirror.'

Laughing, Hercules shook his head. 'One miracle at a time, Iolaus. I mean, will you look at _that!_'

'Huh?' Turning stiffly about, Iolaus saw where his partner was looking. 'Oh, that's handy. I don't feel much like climbing for some reason.'

A set of steps had been neatly carved into the cliff face, invisible until the sinking sun caught them and threw them into a stark relief of light and shadow. Jayk was leaping up them two at a time, and reached his lover's side in moments. She moved into his embrace and they kissed, long and warm in the dying light.

'Now that's what I call the perfect ending to a day of dragon hunting,' Iolaus said with a sigh.

Hercules snorted and Iolaus felt the man's big hand ruffle his hair and settle on his good shoulder. 'Agreed, my friend, agreed.'

END


End file.
